


Diary of a Fake Nurse

by Skitty_the_Great



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crazy Castiel, F/M, Megstiel Big Bang 2017, Nurse Meg Masters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-08 20:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12261330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skitty_the_Great/pseuds/Skitty_the_Great
Summary: Beginning the night the Winchesters left her, Meg started a diary as a means of chronicling the day to day task of caring for the angel she’s been charged with. Cutting his hair. Shaving him. Keeping him clean and hiding what he is from the other nurses. After he wakes, however, things only become more difficult, and far stranger for her. She continues the diary as she lays low, through all of Cas’s visits. He brings her honey. He brings her pretty rocks. He brings her flowers that remind him of her. And, though she never wanted to care, something in her softens and washes away, like stone being slowly shaped by a river.





	1. March

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my co-creator, Jenn, who is my voice of Cas in all things. What would I do if I couldn't ask her at any given time of day or night "What do you think Cas is thinking in that moment?" She's the angel to my demon every day and, without her, Cas would probably have spent this entire fic staring blankly into space.
> 
> Thank you, also, to my mother for her first hand accounts of working with catatonic patients. Without her insight, this would have been a very different, and probably much shorter story.
> 
> Last but far from least, thank you to my wonderful artist, Dayas, who went above and beyond and gave this fic so much beautiful art.

  


**March 24th**

**6:23 am**

My hands reek. If I had any fingerprints left on this meatsack, they’re gone by now. Fucking bleach. I swear, sometimes I wonder how many braincells those boys have between them. Who paints a hospital room in blood and expects that to fly? Idiots. This day is never going to end. Technically it’s still yesterday, by that logic, cause yesterday never fucking ended.

Precious Dean. Ever Ungrateful Dean. Asshole Supreme Dean Winchester. That’s twice now I’ve done good by him, and he’s still ordering me out like a dog who’s taken a steaming crap on the carpet. Least there weren’t hellhounds. Castiel is awake thanks to me, he should be kissing my feet, not barking orders while he goes off to have a little lover’s spat with his pet angel. Jokes on him, I guess. He’s going to have to clean out his precious car’s ashtrays now. I don’t like the way cigarette smoke tastes to this body as much as the last one, but if it means leaving the stink of it in his car? I’ll make do. Maybe take me with you next time asshole.

Things went to shit pretty quick without me, from what I can tell. I could see the lights going haywire in one part of the building. I might have sprained something in my neck rolling my eyes as hard as I did. How do those boys manage to do anything when I’m not around? The hospital was in chaos by the time I got inside. Patients screaming. Nurses running. No one even noticed me, too busy with other shit going down, and I can’t say I blame them. The last thing a place like this needed was something like this. At least it was easy to find what I was looking for. Just follow the pretty pretty lights.

I lived in Hell a long time. Hell’s got nothing on that room.

Sam and Dean were working their way around the room, dripping blood onto the tile. Two of the walls were already covered in hastily scribbled angel warding, dripping in gory streaks towards the floor. They were working their way together on the third wall, but the fourth? Totally blank. And for once I think we were on the same wavelength. I wouldn’t have gone near that bed either. I don’t know what happened. There wasn’t time to ask. Castiel was looking at something that wasn’t there. He was talking. The enochian hurt my ears. Power surged and I could see his wings and I had to shut my eyes against the burn. I can still see them, burned into my retinas, when I close my eyes now. Wonder how long that’s gonna take to go away.

I was going to die in that room. He could have looked at me and turned me into a greasy smear on the wall. Had to get out. But it’s not like there was anywhere for me to run to. This was my place to run to, and it was fucked. Long term, needed to think long term. Those boys only ever think about their next step, not where the next ten is going to take them. They weren’t going to be leaving that room anytime soon, the angel maybe not at all. I sent two nurses careening towards the room. Let them see that shit and panic. Anyone with half a brain would get the hell out of dodge and leave us with fewer eyes to deal with. Let the Winchesters build a wall around their angel. I’d build a wall to hide behind.

I hate digging around in people’s heads. It feels cheap. But desperate times and all that. The lights were starting to even out, Winchesters having some success at putting a cap on the angel mojo, but panic is a tricky beast. I decided to err on the side of being thorough. Three more nurses and one night shift doctor, memories scrubbed. Took out everything. Tonight, the night before, everything to do with Sam. He’d still show up on their paperwork but there wasn’t much I could do about that. At least they wouldn’t remember him or any of the antics he’d gotten up to tonight. Or me, and that’s the real important part, isn’t it? I left the crazies crazy cause who’s going to listen to them anyway, waste of time to wipe them. Let them scream. It would give the nurses something else to focus on while I built my walls and dug my trenches.

By the time I got back to the room, I guess you’d call the situation improved. The room reeked like an abattoir with all that blood on the walls, and Dean was nursing his hand. My guess is he tried to punch sense into poor Castiel, because punching an angel is not only logical but clearly the best option in a given situation. Idiot. But what do I know, maybe it worked. Cas was at least sitting still. His eyes were spinning enough to nearly bust the capillaries, give him red eye, cause he needed to look more insane. I handed Sam a bottle of bleach and a paint sponge I’d caged from the janitor’s closet.

“Paint those with this. Nurses see blood on the walls they’re gonna call the cops.”

“Will that work?” I rolled my eyes in answer. Of course it would work. Sigil didn’t have to be visible to human eyes to fucking work.

“I bought you time. Right now no one remembers you’re in here. Work quick before they come up with a reason to check the room.”

They looked at me blankly, and that turned to a fair amount of stink eye. Don’t think they even believed me. It’s like you hang around them long enough they forget what you are. The way they infantilize their angel I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He could crush them with a thought and they make him ride in the back seat. I eyed Sam up and down. He didn’t look like the picture of health but he was a hell of a lot better off than I’d been expecting.

“Well don’t you just look pink as a pistol,” I said, flipping the cap off a bottle of bleach. “Gonna tell me what happened?”

No. Of course not. Only a demon. Only saving their asses. Again. But I’m not an idiot, though I’m sure that’s news to them. I glanced back at Cas and his eyes were fixed on me. Intense, maybe a little afraid. Of me? I’ve never exactly run from an angel, but, again, not an idiot. I wouldn’t go toe to toe with one, let alone one that’s known for going off the rails like this one does. What could he possibly see in me to be afraid of? Not that it mattered, I guess. More important things going on. They broke their angel and now we had to deal with. We, because if they thought they were getting rid of me now, after drawing this much attention from who the Hell even knew, they were even more wrong than usual.

At least he’s safe for now. Can’t hurt anyone. The walls aren’t a horror show anymore and if anyone walks in the chart at the foot of the bed says Sam Winchester, registered patient, so our asses are covered. For now. I’ve gotta go buy a decent outfit and get my hair done. Have to make a good impression at my job interview later.

**12:15pm**

I’ll give Dean this. It’s not a bad plan. I mean from my perspective at least, we won’t get into how fucked up it is that he’s just leaving his atom bomb in the hands of a known enemy but whatever. He doesn’t want to deal that’s fine by me. At least they’re gonna owe me one and I never forget a debt. The angel’s quiet for now and I’m official Nurse Megan Masters, graduate of Galen college of Nursing, with impeccable references and a track record that makes this place wonder why I’m slumming it a little bit but that’s none of their business so long as I’m willing to do it now. Took some acrobatics, I’ll say that much. But it’s done. Should be interesting. Never played a nurse longer than about a week before.

I’ve been watching him since the Winchesters left. Waiting for the bomb to go off but it doesn’t. He just sits and stares. Sometimes his eyes move like he sees something but it’s just me in here. Curiosity is deadly and I’m no cat, but I still wonder. If I could risk peeking but that’s stupid. No idea what I might see in there. Could burn me out without him ever even thinking about it. Some things just aren’t meant for eyes like mine.

  


**March 25th**

**8:30 pm**

Dean owes me so much more than just protection at this point. Cost versus reward is not working out in my favor. I had to sit through a sort of orientation this morning that I swear hasn’t been updated since the 80’s. Not that it matters. Like I care about sexual harassment and proper pill handling and whatever else bullshit was on those tapes, yes tapes, before I zoned out. And then the tour, like I’m gonna need that either. The only places that I care about are the angel’s room and the admin offices. I’ve been sneaking in there off and on all day, trying to fudge the paperwork as best I can. Castiel has a private room indefinitely now, due to possible violent behavior, so that’s at least in the bag. Don’t want some crazy getting tossed in there with him. Besides, I need someplace to lurk during off hours when I’m ostensibly not supposed to be here.

The guy they gave me to shadow hasn’t looked at me once. And by me I mean my face. My tits and ass he is very familiar with. Not sure if that’s a problem or a perk yet, I’ll have to see if that’s an angle I can work. 

I need to figure out a way to minimize the bullshit I’m dealing with on a daily basis. There’s a good twenty patients on this wing alone. Some of them are vegetables and I can worry less about them but others need actual care and even if I was qualified I’ve got more important things to do. Like keeping my little atom bomb from blowing us all up, though at the moment he doesn’t look like he’s in the mood for it. Honestly I don’t know what I’m doing here. If he decided to go nuclear there isn’t a damn thing I could do about it but add to the body count, and not in the fun way. Watch and report, that’s what I’m supposed to do. Lot of good that’s gonna do if I’m vaporized in the effort.

  


**March 26th**

**1:13 pm**

I didn’t think this job was going to be easy. I also didn’t think it was going to be this annoying.

Cas won’t eat. Not surprising. I don’t think angels need to eat on a good day and this isn’t exactly what I would call a good day for the celestial being in residence. Problem is the other nurses aren’t idiots. Yesterday was such a shit show after the pyrotechnics we caused that no one really noticed but today? That uneaten steamed spinach didn’t just stink up the joint, it got attention. Who eats this crap, in the first place? It reeks and looks about as appetizing as phlegm on a plate. Can’t say I really blame him for turning up his nose at it, though by turning up his nose I mean sat inertly and stared into space, like he’s done for the past 32 hours or so.

They’re talking about putting him on an IV if he won’t eat and I bet that’s going to go over just freaking great. Gonna have to find a way to either make him eat it or fake it.

**6:32 pm**

I’ve got a pocket full of creamed fucking corn. I fucking hate the Winchesters.

**9:40 pm**

Castiel’s doctor came to see him tonight. Or should I say Sam’s doctor. Apparently word had filtered back to him that there’d been a change in his condition and it only took him almost two days to come and look into the situation. Makes me glad he’s not an actual patient cause I might just have to rip that guy’s spine out through his urethral on principle. What, too busy looking at porn in your office to take care of your patients? Piece of shit doctor. Never liked doctors. People think I’m the bad guy, I’ve got nothing on the shit the people they trust most pull every damn day. He probably got paid a grand to jerk off to kiddy porn in there.

The bright side is that he’s prescribed “Sam” some new meds. Hello benzodiazepines. A mouth full of Xanax would definitely help curb the impulse to break heads in this place, so looking forward to that. Last time I had some benzos it took about five to really have an effect so I’m gonna have to pocket them for awhile if I want to really make use of them but hey. I’m a patient girl. I can play the long game. It’s what I’m doing now, isn’t it? And this? It’s nothing compared to the last one.

  


**March 27th**

**11:32 pm**

Some of the crazies can see me.

There’s 20 in this ward. Some of the more extreme cases, I guess. Makes sense considering what little Sammy was in here for. The first couple days it was nothing but screaming when I would walk down the hall. They know what I am, they just can’t put it into words. And the ones that can just get written off by the people supposedly taking care of them. Taking care of the sick is a joke in this day and age. In my day, we gave people a little dignity in their deaths, because that’s all this is. They’re not people anymore, the minds are gone. What are you once the mind’s gone? Nothing. Anything that was you went flying out the window. Death would be better.

Doesn’t apply to poor damaged Castiel I guess. He hasn’t flown away. He’s in there somewhere. Might be better if he wasn’t. It’s almost sad, looking at him like this. Hell, almost nothing. It is sad. Like seeing a tiger locked up in a cage that’s not even big enough for it to turn around, only worse somehow. Cause he’s just given up and laid down and 

This isn’t productive.

The ward isn’t screaming anymore. I took care of that at least. So they can see me? Fine, they can see me. I’ll let them see what I really am and they went from alarmed to terrified. The difference being that before they wanted to alert their caregivers to the danger. Maybe someone would come save them. Now they know better. They see me coming down the hall and they draw away, look at the floor, cower. It’s a little gratifying, honestly. Reminds me of home. Reminds me of walking down the halls with Alistair.

Also not productive.

Cas had pork chops for dinner tonight. Greasy but easier to stow at least. I’m getting some looks since he won’t “eat” for anyone else and I can tell they’re thinking my first day off he’s going to be a problem. I haven’t decided how to deal with that yet, my days off. It’s way too much effort try and manipulate everyone into thinking I already took them. Probably easiest to just possess another nurse, but this body won’t last long without me in it at this point. I’ll have to think about it.

 

**March 28th**

**9:00 pm**

Today was a bad day.

So far I’ve been able to fake certain things. I can’t get him to eat obviously but if it’s not too disgusting I can at least make it look like he did, or hide the evidence. Bathroom breaks too, easy to hide. Just tell them he already went and it’s taken care of. Other things? I didn’t even know I was faking them. I didn’t realize how often the brain dead need washed. Apparently I’ve been doing it every two hours, or at least that’s what the other staff on the ward think. Face, hands, and junk, every two hours, like clockwork. Yeah I really haven’t been doing that. It’s not like he sweats or shits himself. He doesn’t do anything. He’s cleaner than anyone in here and he’s barely moved in three days.

But that’s just the daily routine. Apparently, when you’re a stiff, you get a full bath twice a week, and that requires Jim, the big burly orderly, to come in and help lift. Busted me not working, for starters, but like I care. Bigger problems. Bathtime did not go well.

Castiel’s resistant to movement at the best of times. He’s a little more pliant for me, can’t figure out if it’s cause he recognizes me or I’m just stronger than human so it seems easier. But he did not want to be manhandled by this guy. And he really didn’t want to be stripped or touched. Not that I blame him. He went even more rigid than normal the minute things got started and could honestly kiss him for it cause it gave me a chance to stall and try to think of a way out of this. Tempted as I might be to see him stripped to the skin, I’m not really interested if he can’t do anything once we get there. Or won’t. Either. Where’s the fun? 

He was like a mannequin being shoved into that bathroom, and once Jim started going for the clothes, things got bad. I’d only worked up to half a plan when Cas started fighting back. He wasn’t doing much, as far as angels go. But he was being difficult. Belligerent. Moving for the first time in days, twisting, pulling away like he didn’t want to be touched. I’d thought, watching him over the past few days, that some spark of life might be a hopeful sign. But it’s not. It’s worse. He looks so human. Broken and human.

At least by then I knew what to do. Something stupid but at least it was something. I wasn’t sure if Jim could feel it coming, but I could. Like static in the air. The lights started flickering. There was about to be some angel mojo bullshit in that bathroom and that was the last thing I needed. I took a chance.

There’s been a lack of focus in Cas’s eyes that is downright unnerving. Whatever he’s looking at? It’s not in the room, and it’s definitely not me. He was leaned against the tile of the bathroom wall, arms drawn tight up against his bare chest, down to just a pair of hospital pants, eyes looking wild. I grabbed him by the chin and made him look at me and, just for a minute, I think he saw me. The way he looks at me always hits like a punch to the chest. So few people ever see me. So few can. In this place I’ve almost gotten used to wearing my face on my sleeve, but an angel’s not going to run screaming and cowering from a demon. He looked at me, almost like the lights had blinked on for a second, but only a second. I wasn’t sure I’d get another shot. I couldn’t talk to him. I had to hope he’d pull it out of my head.

“Clarence,” I thought, and there was that flicker again. A little dim bulb halfway between lighting up and flickering out. “Calm down. Sit in the shower chair. I’ll…” I’ll what? I wasn’t sure what he needed to hear. Protect him? He didn’t need my protection. Take care of him? I wasn’t sure if he’d understand that. “I’ll get rid of this guy,” I thought. For a moment there was nothing, and then he relaxed. Slow as molasses he moved into the little handicapped shower stall and sat in the white padded chair. Jim sighed behind me, relieved.

“You’ve got a way with him, I’ll give you that,” he said. “Let’s get this over with, I wanna go to lunch.”

“Why don’t you let me handle it,” I said, quick but even, like I was trying to do him a favor. “You go on to lunch, I can handle this.”

“There’s supposed to be two of us in here,” he said, then put on a sarcastic smile. “They don’t want us feelin’ up the patients when no one’s looking.” I tried not to grind my teeth. I barely had to look behind his eyes to know that was exactly what he did when he had a woman to take care of. Some of them young. I might be evil, but I’m not a fucking sicko.

“Then how about you get me one of the female nurses.” Fuck if I could remember any of their names. “I don’t think he likes being touched by you. Probably a raging homophobe or something.” I gave him my most winning smile. He shrugged, holding up his hands like he was surrendering.

“Less work for me.” And off he went. I threw some power at the door the minute he was gone. None of the rooms lock from the inside, so they wouldn’t suspect me, they’d just think something fucked up happened to the door and I was trapped or something. Which was fine by me. I tried to get into Cas’s line of view again, make eye contact, try to see if the lights were still on, but whatever he was looking at wasn’t in the room. Gone again.

To make it look convincing, like I’d actually done my job, I got the showerhead and ran it till the water was nice and hot. Then I tilted his head back and washed his hair. I think he might have liked it, seemed to anyway. Leaned his head back and closed his eyes. I toweled him off and pulled his shirt back on. He’d gone dead weight on me again, but at least he hadn’t gone rigid. With no one to watch, I just picked him up and took him back to the bed. Laid him down and covered his feet, which were still damp. Kind of silly I guess. Not like he’s gonna get cold. 

The second I took the block off the door, Jim and one of the nurses practically fell into the room. They’d been trying to get in from the other side. I just played dumb and said I hadn’t noticed it was stuck, but hey look I’m already done and he walked to bed all by himself, isn’t that great? They seemed distrustful but it’s not like they had any other answers.

This situation isn’t going to last. He almost went full angel wings today, I could feel it. He does that in front of anyone and we’re fucked, and I don’t think I’ll be able to weasel out of that bath situation a second time. Word gets out there’s an angel here and it’ll be all over. I’m going to have to do something. I don’t like it, but better me than him. I guess.

 

**March 29th**

**Noon**

So far so good. Half the patients on my ward won’t let me anywhere near them. The other half are getting there. I’ve been flashing my pretty blacks at them all day. I can’t be wiping asses and delivering pills all day, it’s not what I’m here for. The other nurses are catching on and I’m getting called for fewer things. They all just assume I’m working in some other room and just deal with it, and that’s exactly what I want them to think. Once I’ve got the whole ward afraid of me, I’ll start on the nurses. More dangerous. But necessary. I don’t want them trying to transfer me somewhere else. I need them to be just afraid enough that they leave me and my angel the fuck alone. Baby steps. For all I know he’ll snap out of this tomorrow and I won’t have to worry anymore. In the meantime, though, better safe than sorry. The fewer people poking around in this room the better.

Tomorrow is going to be a problem. It’s supposed to be my first day off. That’s fine, I can just camp in Castiel’s room and read but it does mean other people coming in here, trying to wash him, trying to feed him. That’s not gonna go over well, and if they look too close at the bodily functions he’s not having there’s gonna be questions.

I’ve got an idea but I don’t like it. Only one I’ve got though. Better get started on it.

 

**March 30th**

**10:15 pm**

Another bad day. My day off. Or I guess I should say, Nurse Masters’s day off. I was still here, and it was a freaking shit show.

When faced with the question of what to do on days I’m not supposed to be here, the answer was kind of laughably obvious, but that didn’t make it a good one. It’s not like I can’t jump to one of the other nurses after all. But that is sort of a horrible idea for a bunch of reasons, not the least of which the fact that I’m not sure exactly how long this body is going to last without me in it to keep the meat fresh. More than half the appeal of this body is it’s so nice and roomy in here. The girl I took it from barely gave me a wave on her way out the door once I stepped in. Junkie kid on the streets of LA. Still got scars inside the elbows. She’d had big ideas, I saw that much at least. Fleeting glimpse of home, mom, dad, snot nosed little sister. And that was it. Never even knew her name. Now it’s just me in here. Last time I vacated she wound up in the hospital as a Jane Doe coma patient. But at least they’d had the equipment and know how to keep her alive till I could come back for her. I don’t have any of that. Or I didn’t, anyway. Today was a risk, not just for the angel but for me. More for me really. Fuck, today was such a bad idea.

Started with stealing a bed. I pushed it into the empty space on the other side of Cas’s room and put a curtain up around it. Just in case someone peeks in. Heart monitor, IV...the works. Not that I know how to set this shit up but I had hope that once I jumped whoever I wound up in would have the know how. I got lucky, or maybe they all do who the hell knows I’m not a nurse I just play one on TV. I jumped into Darice, first shift nurse on my days off, and former ER nurse. He knew how to place an IV and, turns out, is suitably superstitious that he hid in the back of my head chanting a hail mary through the entire day. He’s not stupid enough to go shouting demon now that I’ve let him go, but I’m hoping his fear spreads to the others and they leave me the fuck alone. My day would be a shit ton easier if I could just stop pretending to care about passing pills and cleaning piss.

So my body made it through the day but you know what I didn’t count on? Castiel being an over attached cry baby about it.

I made the jump the moment I felt Darice enter the building. I didn’t want to miss crucial conversations and have to play catch up with the small talk later. Also didn’t want to have a massive cloud of black smoke spotted by anyone who wasn’t already crazy and unreliable. Cas was alone a grand total of seven minutes. He must have felt me go, though, cause when I got to the room he was out of bed. Nearly pissed myself, honestly, but he was there, just behind the curtain. Staring down at the girl. At me, I guess, it’s not like it’s her body anymore. He wasn’t moving at all, if I hadn’t left him in bed I might have thought he’d been there for hours just stock still, staring. His face was all pinched and confused and at first he wouldn’t look up at me.

It really is weird, looking down at that body. It’s me but it isn’t me. I’ve worn faces longer, but it’s the first time I’ve had the head to myself. There was this housewife in 56. I wore her for almost a decade, keeping an eye on little John Winchester and his parents. Boring work, but I got used to that face. It was never mine though. Sometimes I try to stretch my memory back and picture what I remember seeing reflected in the water. When I was human. But that was so long ago there’s no way to know if I’m actually seeing my face or just an amalgamation of features I’ve cobbled together over the centuries. It’s not like there’s any mirrors in Hell. At least not the kind you use for putting on your face.

But I look at this girl now and it’s like looking at my own dead body laying on the bed. Bizarre doesn’t begin to cover it. I get why he looked confused.

I had to hold his face and force him to look at me and if I thought he looked confused before it was nothing compared to the look he gave me then. Must have been strange, seeing my features under this male face and dark skin. There was more movement in his eyes than I’ve seen so far and for a second I thought maybe he was waking up, but no. Can’t get that lucky. He was just making sure I was me before he went blank again. It was almost endearing. Like he was worried about me.

Didn’t last, of course. I’m not kidding when I say I’ve got no luck in this damn place. He ran. Blipped right out of existence and I nearly had a heart attack. Knocked over Sarah, the third shift nurse, as she was leaving the building, running down the hall. Trying to follow the burn of power, reaching for things I shouldn’t reach for cause they could incinerate me out of this body, out of existence. But I found him. He was sitting down in the day room at a table by himself, half finished puzzle some other crazy had been working on laid out on the table. It’s a kitten. Probably had to break it’s paws or something to get it to sit still long enough for the photo shoot. I sat down opposite him. Said his name. No one’s home. Still won’t look at me.

At least he hadn’t run far. I had to leave him there, hoping he wouldn’t take off again, just so I could take care of business. If he’s this upset by seeing me out of my skin for a day, I sure as shit can’t let the body die now. He’ll run off back to Heaven and get himself killed or something.

I gave Darice more leeway in my head than I would have in any other situation. I didn’t want to end up with my arms all fucked up from a bad IV, and the clock was ticking. Cas was unsupervised downstairs and on edge. I needed to get back down there. Gave him the hands and told him if he did a good job I’d take someone else next time. He believed me. Maybe I’ll do him a solid and keep my word on that one, prove that demons can be trustworthy if you just keep your head down and do what we say. Besides, I need to spread the fear around a little. I’m like an infection in this place. Worse. Cancer. Can’t ever get to the heart of me and get rid of me, which is exactly how I want it. Stay the fuck away from me or I’ll spread to your goddamn lymph nodes. No fucking idea what that even means but if they say it on House it’s good enough for me. If today showed me anything it’s that I can’t be fucking around for even a minute or I’ll lose him. It’s more than just my ass on the line for this one.

At least Cas was manageable. After the fact anyway. I couldn’t get him to budge from the puzzle table, but he wasn’t belligerent about it. Had to feed him out there and I was a little worried about that. It’s harder to hide that he’s not eating when he’s out in the open like that but apparently somewhere in that head of his he’s decided to work with me, at least on that issue. He ate. I hope his brain is mush enough that he couldn’t taste it because I don’t even have words to describe the questionable quality of the food they’re giving him. Glad I never have to grow old and end up in a place like this.

I wonder if he would have eaten for any of the other nurses. I wonder if it’s just me.

 

**March 31st**

**11:45 am**

Darice is terrified of me. Can’t say I blame him. Came to a halt when he saw me in the hall just now. Gave him a wave and a smile. One less nurse I have to worry about poking around down on this end of the ward.

**9:00 pm**

Cas keeps disappearing down to the day room. I think he’s trying to give me a heart attack. He doesn’t even do anything down there I don’t know why he keeps going. Doesn’t talk. Doesn’t move. Doesn’t even look at anyone, just stares off into space, same as always. The other patients flock to him. Every time he disappears on me and I have to go down there I have to chase them away like pigeons off a statue. So long as they don’t start shitting on him I guess it’s fine. Whatever he’s getting out of it, at least he’s not freaking out and going all angel wings. Small mercies.

It’s supposed to be bath day again today, but seeing as Darice is still on my wing, I didn’t have to worry about it. Well, I should say that I didn’t have to worry about keeping up appearances. Cas was getting a little scruffy though. He’s so much easier to handle without the other nurses getting in the way. He got into the shower chair without issue and I washed his hair. Blow dried it. Got out a shaving kit. Easy. He didn’t even move while I took care of it, or when I changed his shirt after I dropped shaving cream on his other one. Maybe he trusts me I don’t know. I can just imagine what little Dean would say if he saw me coming at his pet angel with a razor, even a safety razor. But Castiel? Not a blink.

After, I sat him on the floor and put a towel around his shoulders so I could cut his hair. It’s out of control, always has been, and that’s gonna draw attention in a place like this where he’s supposed to be clean and presentable and well cared for. But he’s too damn tall for me to leave him in a chair to do this. Next time I pick a body it’s gonna be a freaking amazon supermodel, I’ve had it with this short shit. I mean, it has its uses. When you walk into a room as a tiny little woman flanked by giant imposing men, people never think you’re the one they need to worry about. It’s the best kind of misdirection because first impressions are everything. But who am I making impressions on right now? The girl that eats her own hair and the nurse stealing drugs from her psych patients? Whatever. When this body finally gives out, I wanna be tall. Maybe. Guess we’ll see.

I wonder if his hair is soft cause he’s an angel or if he just got lucky when he picked his vessel.





	2. April

**April 1st**

**2:30 pm**

Resident “class clown” has been pulling “pranks” all day and shouting April Fools. She put Groucho glasses on the patients. Froze all the drinks in the employee fridge. Just tried to flat tire my damn shoe as I was walking down the hall. Looks like I know which meatsack I’m taking over for my day off tomorrow. 

**6:36 pm**

Got a text from a Winchester. Hard to say which one. It came from Dean’s phone but it was too nice. “How’s he doing?” it said. Not much right? But not Dean. He would’ve asked if he was awake, not how he was doing. Probably Sam. But who the Hell knows, maybe he’s feeling guilty about leaving his shoulder angel in the hands of the enemy. Sent him back a photo instead of an answer. Let him look at poor Castiel, slack faced, dead eyed, and feel guilty. Not about leaving him with me, fuck that untrustworthy bullshit, I’m sick of it. Guilty because if this was dear precious Sammy he’d have called up God Himself to fix him by now. But Cas? Let him rot, I guess. 

Whoever it was, they didn’t answer for a long time. Started wondering if it was their idea of an April Fools prank. Ha ha, you thought we cared for .5 seconds, jokes on you! Then, out of nowhere, “Anything we can do?” Definitely little sensitive Sammy. As if Dean would go out of his way for anyone. I sent back an order for a bottle of whiskey and a handsome masseur with the option for a happy ending.

“Just let us know if anything changes. Thanks for looking after him.”

And that’s it. The extent of my contact with the illustrious Winchesters after a week and a half of being left alone with their broken toys. You’d think they’d at least want more frequent updates, hell. I’ve watched them long enough to know better but it still blows my mind how bad their self centered tunnel vision is. I’m a demon, and I’ve got nothing on them when it comes to fucking people over. Thousands of years and I don’t think I could even hope to do the kind of damage they’ve managed to in the last couple years, and that’s to the world as a whole. Any wonder the people around them tend to fall to such shit?

Should bail. Even doing this for them, even knowing how much they owe me for this, I don’t trust them and I know they don’t trust me. So why am I bothering. It’s not gonna keep me safe. It’s not gonna help take down Crowley. For all I know they’re gonna sell me out to him the moment they get someone else to take Cas’s leash, and they’re probably already looking. Maybe they won’t even do that much. Maybe they’ll just thank me for my service with a knife through the spine.

I wonder what’ll happen to me then. I was human once. I’ve got a soul. So what happens to me when I die? I don’t own the damn thing, I’m barely leasing it. Gave up my rights to it so long ago it’s not even worth trying to figure out the dates. So where does it go if I shuffle off now? Who gets it? You’d think after being alive this long I might be ready for it to be over but I don’t think I ever will be. Some people aren’t built for the long haul, but I’ve never been what one would call a quitter, even when I probably should have been. What can I say? Some people just stay alive out of pure fucking spite.

Maybe it’s time to run again.

I think I heard Cas move

**April 2nd**

**8:07 am**

So far so good on day off take 2. Cas freaked less, at least

**9:32 am**

I regret this decision. All this girl does is shriek and beg in the back of my head. There was a time I might have been into that but I’ve got shit to do right now and she will not shut the fuck up. Can’t even do a catch and release. Trying to build a rep here. Fucking A.

**11:00 am**

I’m getting a headache.

**1:25 pm**

Never a dull moment. Cas is in bed now, resting. Docile. Inert. You’d never guess that about forty minutes ago he almost ended this fucking place.

Most of the patients are avoiding me at this point. Even the ones that can’t see me have caught the whiff of danger from the others, like a pack of dogs. They don’t approach. They don’t ask for things. They want nothing to do with me, which is fine all around, I’m not here to change bed pans anyway. But I’m not the only one they can see. There’s this old guy, which is such an amazing description really but there’s not much else to say about him. He’s old. They’re all old. Or mostly all. Handful of others who don’t have to eat jello through a straw, but Cas is definitely the hot young stud at this golden oldies convention. But I’ve been noticing him the last couple times Cas has blipped down to the day room. He watches us. Or Cas, I guess. That’s sort of painfully clear now.

Everyone goes crazy from time to time. But it’s a little bit worse when they were already crazy to begin with.

Cas was in the day room, it’s his new favorite place I guess. Doesn’t even do anything there, doesn’t watch people, doesn’t move, just stands and stares into space. I try to get him to sit down so he draws less attention, but it doesn’t always work. Definitely didn’t today. Maybe it’s the face I’m wearing, I don’t know. He was standing there and I was sitting at a table where I could keep an eye on him with a magazine. I could feel the side eye I was getting from the other nurses, but it’s not like I can do anything. They’ve all learned pretty quick that the patients aren’t going to let me near them so it’s pointless to ask. Dipped into one of their thoughts long enough to find out they’re taking bets on how long it takes for me to be fired. Should maybe visit the admin office and make sure that doesn’t happen, put the fear of God, so to speak, into him.

So I guess what happened was my fault. I wasn’t paying as much attention to him as I should have been. None of the nurses were, they were all clustered around one patient who was having a fit. He has them a lot, you’d think they’d be used to it or fucking prepared but nope. So they were doing that, I was reading and listening in, and no one was watching Castiel. Amatuer move and if he’d incinerated me it’d have been my own damn fault. 

One of the crazies got Cas in a corner. He didn’t even react, I don’t think, he was still just standing there. The guy had a death grip on his arm, had his sleeve all bunched up from how hard he was squeezing. He was talking but there was too much noise for me to pick it out. Wanted to rush over, but had to play it cool, not draw any more attention to the situation, so I got up as calm as I could and walked over. Then I could hear him.

He was telling Cas he’s a monster. Telling him he could see what he was. For the first time in days, Castiel had an actual, readable expression on his face. That’s right, it said. I am a monster. I deserve this. I’ve seen that expression plenty of times to know it. He didn’t even react when the man rucked up his shirt and started clawing at him. He was muttering “under the skin” over and over again, getting louder, and that was when the angel finally kicked in. Just before I could get to the guy, it happened, and I had to turn away. It was too bright. And it burned. Angel Grace. Maybe the old guy clawed deep enough to get at the real Cas underneath, I didn’t get a chance to see. Maybe Cas was just acting out. I thought I could smell hair burning and wondered if it was mine.

I was stepping over someone. Took me a minute to realize it was the old man that had attacked him. Didn’t stop to check if he was breathing, but his legs were twitching so probably. Couldn’t see Cas. Didn’t know what to do, so I did the only logical thing in a situation like that. Slapped the hell out of him. My hand still burns. I get why Dean tried to punch him now.

The light went out and I risked looking up at him. His face was one I’ve seen before. Hundreds of times. Thousands of times. I saw it on myself, a few thousand years ago. It’s acceptance. And not the good kind. I’ve seen it on the faces of souls in Hell, when they finally take up the tools that had been used on them, and start using them on others. I’ve seen it on the truly evil, curled into the fetal position in the corners of their cells, realizing for the first time that they weren’t good people. That they weren’t doing what was right. That they were on the wrong side of the line. It’s a small expression, a blank one, but so different than the empty stare he’d had before. Whatever was going on inside his head, whatever he was seeing, I couldn’t say. But, whatever it was, it must not have been pretty.

“Hey.” Trying to get him to look at me, but he never really does. “You’re not listening to this psycho freak are you? He’s a waste of air. Look at me.” I gave him a shake. “Castiel.” Slightest flicker of reaction in his eyes. Someone’s home. Someone’s listening. “There’s a monster in this building but it’s not you. The only reason he’s clawing at you and not me is cause he knows I’m the real bitch of this situation. Hey.” I put a hand on his face and I swear he leaned into it, like he needed the touch. “I’ve seen a lot of monsters in my time. You’ve got more than enough street cred to be one, but the difference between you and me is that when push came to shove I fell and you didn’t. You understand me?”

No reaction, but I guess in that situation, no reaction is a good thing. The other nurses were hovering around us, too afraid to approach, even to remove the man on the floor. I wondered how much of what I was saying they heard. Or believed. The other patients were yelling, making the room unbearable, but no one was trying to stop them or soothe them. I turned around and looked at them all. Let them see the eyes. I’m not in the right body, but whatever, they’ll get the message. 

Blood was starting to seep through Cas’s shirt where he’d been scratched up. He could have healed it in a second but he didn’t, just let it ooze. The other nurses, I guess deciding it was their duty to save the man’s life, dragged the other patient away. A little bit of tension went out of Cas then. Small blessings. He let me lead him back to his room without trouble, but he still wasn’t healing. I cleaned the scratches the old fashioned way and got him into a clean shirt.

Now he’s just laying there. Like nothing happened.

I let the girl go and took my body back. No real reason to keep her. She took off running down the hall, screaming about a monster, and that’s both good and bad. I need them scared enough of me that they don’t fucking bother me. But I don’t want word getting out that shit is going on here. It’s already hard enough to keep Cas under wraps. I’m going to have to go around later and collect them all and make sure they’re scared enough to keep it quiet. No rest for the wicked, isn’t that the saying? For the moment, though, I just want to make sure my angel isn’t going to fly the nest and get himself in more trouble the moment I turn my back.

This is some next level existential bullshit I’m dealing with here and I was really not prepared for that. Crazy angel? Sure. Whatever. But he’s not just crazy. Whatever’s going on in that head of his, he thinks he deserves this. I get that now. I don’t know if this walking coma he’s got working is a self induced penance or if it’s the only way he can deal with whatever’s in there, and I don’t think I’ll ever know. Don’t even think I can. But, I guess, as one monster looking at another, I kind of get it. We’ve all done some fucked up shit. Some of us have just had longer to deal with it than others. 

But it’s not fair to him, or even to the real monsters in this crowd. I know what I am. I’ve always known what I am. I went through my five stages of acceptance so long ago there isn’t even written record of my life. And he’s not like me. Whatever bullshit he’s done, and yeah, there’s been some bullshit, it’s always been with good intentions. And I know, road to Hell and all that, but as someone who calls Hell home, there’s a lot of different roads to get there and some of them are a lot better than others. Maybe he was on the road to Hell. But it was one of the nice ones. Paved, no pot holes. Nice scenery. He didn’t know what road he was on. 

I need to go take care of this panicked nurse situation. Need to do a lot of things. 

This is all so fucked.

 

**April 3rd**

**3:00 pm**

Cas hasn’t moved at all today. Just lays in the bed staring at the ceiling. I haven’t even tried to leave the room, hell with it. If they expect me to do anything after the light show yesterday they are seriously insane. It’s unnerving though. I got kind of used to the little signs of life and now there’s just nothing.

Should have been bath day today but no one showed up to help. Not surprised.

I keep expecting to hear from the Winchesters today. I know, logically, there’s no way for them to know what went down yesterday but it still feels like they should be checking up. They did once, they’ll do it again, won’t they? Do they really care so little about him that they’d leave him like this with only a token check in to ease their conscience? This whole time I thought he was important to them. Honorary Winchester. But I guess not. Guess he’s just another responsibility to them, and since they’ve shirked him off on me they aren’t bothered anymore. 

Maybe they’re on a hunt, I don’t know. I’m not really inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt. They’re not exactly the most reliable monsters in the world. Hell, I keep my word more often than they do and I’m a fucking a demon.

 

**April 4th**

**Noon**

Had to get Cas into some new clothes today. He doesn’t sweat, so he doesn’t really get dirty, but he still gets into things. Cuffs of his pants drag on the floor. They were started to look gray. And he was all over wrinkled. Didn’t seem right, he’s in my care I should take care of him. Hasn’t needed much from me for the past two days so might as well. He was pretty compliant to the whole thing. Took the opportunity to wash the bed head out of his hair. I really think he likes it. Not really anything he does, he’s still an empty sack most of the time, but just something. I don’t know. I feel like he’s happier.

We haven’t had any more fireworks but he’s been a little more mobile. I look away for a second and suddenly he’s on the other side of the room, staring at the wall. Or he’ll be sitting on the floor in the corner of his room, hands in his lap. Never see him move, he just blips from one place to the next. It’s a good thing the nurses aren’t coming down this way as much, don’t know how I’d explain that. But at this point, it just sort of adds to the mystique I guess. Every time I need anything, all I have to do is step out into the hall and ask for it. I’m up to my neck in magazines and lattes right now. Things could be worse.

Downfall is that no one’s delivering his pills anymore. I only got a grand total of five xanax before the river dried up. Might be enough for a cozy afternoon, we’ll see. I’ll hold onto them for a rainy day.

 

**April 5th**

**11:45 am**

Looks like Kim’s on the rebound. Can’t say I blame her but Kanye? Really? He might be the only person in the world who’s more self obsessed than she is.

 

**April 6th**

**7:15 pm**

He started talking today.

Maybe talking is too strong a word. He made words, which is an upgrade from sounds. But only barely. He was back in the corner and refusing to move. It feels weird leaving him there. I know he’s not going to get sore or cold sitting like that but it still feels wrong. Looking at him like that he looks too much like the run of the mill human crazies he’s surrounded by. I don’t like it. But I’m also not stupid. If he wants to sit on the floor and isn’t responding to my attempts to move him, I’m not going to press it and wind up a pile of ash. I’ve already had too many close calls on this one. It’s definitely not worth the effort I’m putting in, particularly since the Winchesters are probably just going to try and kill me the moment they don’t need me anymore.

Untrustworthy bastards.

But he did make words.

“Shouldn’t have.” That’s what he keeps saying. Like a skipping record, just over and over again, until the words run together and don’t make sense anymore. They’re just sounds and the only reason I know what he’s saying is because I heard it when he started. Now it’s just a stream of sound, barely louder than breathing. Not even sure I’d be able to hear it if I was, you know, garden variety human. There’s no reaction when I try to talk to him or wave my hand in front of his face. Doesn’t even blink. But it’s not like I need to really ask what he “shouldn’t have” done. I mean, I don’t know. But with all the shit that’s gone down in the past couple years, I can imagine it’s pretty bad. Who knew angels could feel guilty?

**8:00**

He’s gone quiet again. Let me get him into bed. Sometimes he flinches when I touch his skin and he isn’t ready for it. Doesn’t seem to bother him when he sees me coming, though. Wonder if it’s cause it’s me and he doesn’t mind me touching him. Almost flattering if that’s the case. If he had his marbles, I might take it as a good sign, but seeing as he doesn’t? Guess I missed my shot on that one. Shame.

 

**April 7th**

**8:00 pm**

Cas had himself a little visit from a priest today. Wonder which of my lovely co-workers arranged that. Going to have to find the whistleblower and deal with it before they cause more of a stink and attract actual attention from someone who matters.

Rev. Robert Emmett Barron, that is seriously his name and he made a point of telling me the whole thing for some reason, showed up to have dinner with “Sam” and see how he was doing and if there was anything he could do to “ease his spiritual burden.” I told him that, to the best of my knowledge, “Sam” wasn’t Catholic, so his services weren’t needed. He insisted on staying anyway, saying some overly cliched nonsense about us all being children of the same God or something. Sure, dude. I’m a child of God. Can’t wait to sit across from Dad at the dinner table next Thanksgiving.

I’ve known a lot of clergy in my time. Hell, I’ve been a lot of clergy in my time. Nothing is more fun than working from inside their ranks, really. But the most dangerous ones are always the young ones. They’re all full of faith and hope and those two things together are trouble. By the time they get old, they’re usually so corrupted by their own trumped up power that they’re the easiest to influence. But the young ones? Trouble. And this guy didn’t even have any gray in his hair yet.

Cas, naturally, had no reaction to him even being there, but then I don’t really think he was there to check on Cas. He was there for me. He asked guarded questions, at first. How I’d come to work there. How I knew “Sam.” Why I thought the other patients didn’t respond well to me, though he demurred away from answering me when I asked how he knew they didn’t. Someone’s going to pay for this. I really doubted the Winchesters would react well if they found out I killed a priest on my watch, but really I was more worried about how Cas would react to it. He didn’t watch us, but I think he might have been aware of us. Something about his posture. The tilt of his head. I’m getting pretty good at reading his lack of expression I think.

At the very least, a Priest is not a hunter. He left here suspicious, but with no proof. He’ll be back though. I could see that plain as day in his head. I’m going to have to find my leaky pipe and close it off for good.

 

**April 8th**

**7:45 pm**

Well I am shocked and amazed. I just got off the phone with a Winchester. Sam, of course. No surprises there beyond the fact that he called at all. Called, not texted. You’d almost think he cared.

He just wanted a status update on Cas, but he’s not as good an actor as he thinks he is. Didn’t want to call. It was all over his voice. I don’t know if he feels guilty about leaving his angel, guilty about leaving him with me specifically, or just over the entire situation. Here I thought he was the empathetic one. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and say it’s guilt that Cas is like this. Sure, he might have made this bed and now he’s laying in it, but

Actually I don’t have a good but, from what I know about the situation Cas is totally holding the bag on this one. Still, for a pair of boys that talk such a big game about family, they sure are quick to cut people off. Even when I fucked up, I knew Yellow Eyes had my back, and we’re fucking demons. What’s their excuse?

Gave him the basics. Nothing new to report. Kept the freak outs and the clergy to myself. It’s not like they’re going to come help anyway. Is he awake or is he not, that’s all they want to know. And he’s not. So that’s what I told him. 

 

**April 9th**

**3:04 pm**

I’m sitting outside for a change. It’s nicer than I thought it’d be. I’ve spent so long in a body that I think sometimes I’ve just gotten used to the way it pinches and holds you in. Being inside all the time doesn’t exactly help that feeling. I can’t imagine what Cas feels like in there, at least I’m mostly human sized. Begs an interesting question though. Why hasn’t he just peaced out? If he’s so broken and shut down, why does he stay in that body at all? It can’t be comfortable. Maybe he’s just gotten used to it. Stockholm syndrome of the body. Who knows.

So yeah I took him outside today. The weather was nice for once. I don’t know if he’s affecting the weather and keeping it gloomy or if the sky just has a great sense of dramatic irony. I mean, how many times have I had to face some bullshit with those boys and it’s a starless, moonless night? Or storming? Or wind fit to knock you over? Just once it might be interesting to, I dunno, save the world on a nice sunny afternoon at the beach with sunbathers looking at us over the tops of their romance novels.

I put him in a wheelchair after lunch and wheeled him down here. The other nurses and even some of the other patients are staring holes through us but whatever. There’s a quiet spot here, in the corner of the courtyard. Shade from a tree, little bench with a curved back. For some reasons there’s turtles, like a lot of them. There’s not a single solid water source in this courtyard, how in the hell did they get turtles? Staff must have brought them in at some point and now the place is infested and the poor bastards can’t get out. I can relate.

His eyes are closed, but I don’t think he’s sleeping. He doesn’t sleep, so why would he start now? His face looks relaxed for once, dappled with what little direct sunlight is coming through the trees. His head is titled just a little towards the light, like a sunflower. I think he likes it. 

Leaf fell in his hair and I got up to pull it off. He opened his eyes and looked at me. I swear, just for a second, I think he really saw me. There was a light on in the attic for once. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. I almost didn’t want to move. He closed his eyes again the minute I stood back up and I hate to admit it, but I was a little relieved. I know the endgame here is to get Cas back to fighting status, and if he woke up right now and called me an abomination and went off looking for his boys then...bully for him. But I don’t like the way he looked at me. He can keep those pretty blues to himself. Now he’s back to acting like it didn’t even happen, completely inert angel. I think I’m losing it here.

 

**April 10th**

**11:30 pm**

It’s hard to write right now, but he’s finally resting. A little. His fingers just dug into my thigh like he could hear what I was thinking. Maybe he can. I don’t know. I don’t fucking know how angels work.

Our nice weather yesterday was the calm before the storm. Literally. Clouds started massing up early this morning and the whole place had this sticky, oppressive feeling to it. Usually? I kind of like storms. I like when the wind blows in five directions at once, like it can’t figure out what it wants to do. I like when the rain hits your skin in little bursts, all cold, before it’s really ready to start raining. I feel powerful on nights like that. Like anything could happen. 

But this was not one of those storms.

I’m wondering, again, if the weather isn’t somehow affected by him. Or maybe it’s the other way around, who’s to really say. He’s not happy, I know that much. The whole day it felt like the building was shrinking. The ceiling getting lower. All the patients were cowering in their rooms and, for once, when I went out to smoke on the patio, the other nurses didn’t run away from me. They all just huddled under the patio awning with their shoulders up around their ears, even though it wasn’t anywhere near raining yet. Solidarity in numbers I guess. I thought it would be better once the thunder broke but boy howdy was I wrong. I thought the crazies were bad before but it’s like the minute the thunder started rolling they wanted to give it a run for its money. Just howling and yelling and crying and the nurses are running up and down the halls like they’re being chased and maybe the chaos we walked into the night we got here wasn’t so unusual after all. You don’t really need demons in a place like this, I guess.

Cas didn’t like it. I’m not sure if it was the yelling or the storm or both, but he really did not like it one fucking bit. The room got darker as the clouds rolled in and at first I thought he was watching the shadows on the walls but it wasn’t that. Whatever he’s looking at, it’s not here with us, it’s all in there, just like always, and I don’t know if that’s more or less worrying than when he was just staring blankly into space. I’d thought whatever demons he was fighting was over now, but apparently not. Should I be happy he’s engaging something mentally or worried that he’s maybe lost it completely? Sam saw things, maybe this is more of that. I know Sammy’s got some messed up shit in his head he could be seeing but I can’t even imagine what Cas has seen. I’ve been alive a long time and I have seen some shit, but I’ve got nothing on him. 

He looked scared. An angel shouldn’t look scared. Kept blipping down to the day room, then back up almost the minute I walked through the door. Thought he might be running from me at first, but it’s not that. He was just running, I think, but didn’t know where to go. Aimed for familiar. Second time it happened, I got down there and he was just sitting on the floor. Cross legged, head hanging down, fellow patients plastered against the walls screaming and the other nurses looking at me like this was my fault somehow. Telling me to get him out of here. Guess they put me in the cool books again, possession notwithstanding, so long as I’m making sure they don’t have to deal with Cas. But I really wasn’t prepared.

I squatted down, tried to look at him, but his eyes were going wild. Saw a horse like this once, eyes rolling all around, probably cause I was there. It bolted straight into a fence, didn’t even try to jump it, broke its front leg and cracked its sternum. Had to be put down. I was worried, for a minute, that he was about to do something similar. I looked him in the eye, and put my hand on his cheek. Said his name.

There it was again, that moment of recognition. He saw me, I know he did. It was gone so fast it was like he blinked it away but it was there goddamn it.

A little bit of the rigidness went out of his shoulders. Then the rest of him. It’s like I was watching him melt. Next thing I knew he was wrapped around my waist like a child. I couldn’t hardly stand up, it's not like him being a good foot taller than me and freaking massive is exactly helping the situation. It’s not that I couldn’t lift him if I wanted to, but it’s incredibly awkward to do anything when you’ve got a grown man clinging to you. For a second I thought he would blip us back to his room, but he didn’t. Made me walk it, nearly stepping on his feet the whole time.

He’s in bed now at least. Sort of. He’s half curled up in my lap and my fucking legs are asleep and every time there’s a flash of lightening or a clap of thunder, he digs in. I’m going to have little finger shaped bruises all over me tomorrow. He likes it when I smooth his hair, run my fingers through it. Preens like a cat. 

At least he’s staying still.

 

**April 11th**

**9:00 am**

Storm still going. Awesome.

**11:52 am**

Lightening and thunder have slacked off and now it’s just rain. A lot of rain. With nothing else going on in the room it sounds ridiculously loud. It’s like a bad horror movie in here. I need to cage some headphones or something from one of the orderlies, they’ve always got them on when they’re not supposed to. Little music might help this situation.

**3:30: pm**

Wind started picking up around lunch. He didn’t blip down to the dayroom today so he didn’t eat, but this place gets a pretty potent strained spinach smell around noon so you know what I feel like I was there. Why does that happen? I swear I have only ever seen spinach on the menu once but every day, there’s that stink.

The rain is less of a torrential downpour at this point and more little bursts of hard pellets against the window. Cas is doing that thing again. His eyes are moving back and forth and all around like he’s watching something I can’t see. Tried to sooth him like I did yesterday, but it’s not doing much good. He’s staying docile, but he’s tense, and watching.

**10:15 pm**

Stole the janitor’s ipod. Weird mix of hip hop and Britney Spears on this thing.

**11:00 pm**

So this body clearly did not come with a set of vocal chords built for singing. Cas seems to like it though. He’s less tense.

 

**April 12th**

**8:30 am**

Storm finally blew itself out. Little bit of sun coming in at the window. He turned towards it. That’s gotta be a good sign right? 

**11:00 am**

He’s more relaxed, I think. The sun’s been eeking it’s way across the room and when it finally hit his face he closed his eyes for a little while. Didn’t move, but, I don’t know. Got the impression he was happier. Some of the tension has gone out of him. Worst is over? Well, I guess I can hope. You know, until the next bullshit thing sends him into a crazy spiral.

 

**April 13th**

I don’t know...late

There’s times when I think he not only sees me, but he’s watching me. At first I thought he was just doing his crazy thing. Watching stuff that wasn’t there. Or maybe it is, I don’t know. He’s an angel, who knows what he sees. But sometimes I think it’s definitely me. Makes me wonder if he’s seeing the girl I’m wearing or if he’s really looking at me. It’s a weird thing. It’s not quite like being undressed by someone’s eyes, that’s annoying as hell. Most of the time. Not always. But this? I don’t know it’s more intimate. When I look at another demon all I see is demon in a meatsuit. What’s he think when he’s looking at me? Abomination probably. But then there’s times

Maybe I just need to get laid

 

**April 14th**

**9:00 pm**

It’s been a week. Winchesters called. Like clockwork. I didn’t answer this time, because why should I? There’s nothing to report that they wanna hear. Do they wanna hear about his dinner preferences? About how he likes it when I smooth his hair? About how the sun on his face makes him calm? No. They just wanna know if he’s back to his old self and useful to them. That’s all he’s ever been to them, an occasionally useful tool. Assholes.

They didn’t even leave a voicemail. And they haven’t tried again. Not even a text.

Assholes.

Tempted to not even call them if he does wake up.

 

**April 15th**

**11:30 am**

I think he likes jello. The green kind.

I know he doesn’t need food, but I don’t know. He’s down there so much now I feel like I have to at least make an effort to blend in. Not fooling anyone. They all know we’re different. Don’t belong. But they watch so I play the part, sue me. Honestly it’s gotten a little better, I think. Some of the patients are watching him and coming closer and at first I was worried about it but they’re not making grabs. I get the impression they just want to be close to him. Maybe now that he’s a little calmer, he’s giving off some good vibrations or something how the hell should I know.

He won’t really eat most of the stuff but he likes the simple foods I think. Jello goes down easy. Oatmeal. I put honey on it this morning I swear he almost smiled. Angel’s got a sweet tooth, who knew? I can relate, buddy. 

**9:30 pm**

Maybe this girl could have made it. She’s not got great vocal chords, but there’s a rasp and a bluesiness to it that could have been big back in the 40’s. Born in the wrong time, poor kid. I downloaded a bunch of Ella songs onto the ipod and I’ve been singing them in the room. Can’t tell if he likes it or not but goes all languid and easy to manage on me so I figure it’s a maybe. Little lullaby for the angel. Not like you ever had any growing up. A scrap of song came into my head and it was out of my mouth before I really thought about it. Wasn’t English. Could barely remember more than a couple lines. There was a stillness in the room after that was part me, but part him too. 

“My mom used to sing that I think” I said to him, like he was listening. I think he was. “Don’t remember”

What made that come out of me? I’m going as crazy as him.

 

**April 16th**

**Noonish**

I am starting to drag some serious ass around here. This body is running on fumes. When I was taking days off and switching bodies, it got to sleep, rest, recharge. I can only keep it going for so long before it literally needs a break. Humans. How do they manage when they are this weak? Now that I’m not getting those days, it’s starting to be a bit of a grind. I’m either going to have to hook her up to the IVs and steal another nurse for a day or two or I’m gonna have to get some shut eye. Both are risky. Things have started to shift in my favor around here. They fear me, but they’re looking at me like the only thing standing between them and the bigger danger. And let’s be real, if Cas got it into his head to level this place there isn’t a damn thing I could to stop him, but they don’t need to know that. 

I kind of like sleep. You don’t realize how much you miss dreams till you don’t really have them anymore. 

But I’m gonna wear this body out if I don’t let it rest soon. I can’t decide if it’s worth risking a nap or if it’s worth risking poking the hornet’s nest and possessing someone again. There’s a good amount of fear in the building right now. Push it too far they might just rise up. Can’t have that.

Gonna become an issue real fucking quick.

 

**April 17th**

**9:00 pm**

Rev. Barron came for dinner tonight.

In retrospect, I kind of like the good Rev. He’s a good sport. Nothing like a man of conviction to get my panties all damp.

So he’s here to check up on “Sam” and I don’t know if he picked up on the changing vibe in this place or what but he seemed a hell of a lot more cautions coming in the door tonight. Didn’t know what he was going to find. Was tempted to peek into his head and see what kind of preconceived notions he’s cooked up about us but that felt like cheating. I’d rather let them surprise me sometimes, and it’s not like I had anything better to do. So I smiled, took my feet off the bed, put away my magazine, and played to friendly nurse. His face told me everything I needed to know about how much he believed that. I think priests, and just religious folks in general, would be a lot less stuck up if they were just allowed to say what they really thought from time to time. All that bottling? It’s not good for them.

Whatever he was expecting, Cas clearly wasn’t giving. He’s a turnip today. Not even a lights are on but nobody’s home situation. No lights in this house. Not today. The good Rev talked to him anyway, like he could hear him. Maybe he can who’s to say? But by the time dinner came around and he was still sitting there, I was over it.

He watched me feed him. Had this look of mild surprise on his face like I might be letting Cas die of neglect and malnutrition, even though he can see plain as day he’s doing fine. Clean shaven. Hair nice and neat. I think he’s even put on a pound or two since he’s been here, what with not being up and moving around and eating all this human food. It got under my skin a little. This man doesn’t know me from Eve, and sure maybe he suspects something is off but isn’t one of the tenets of his oh so profound beliefs “judge not lest ye be judged?” I swear, give me a demon any day. They’ll lie to your face, but there’s a kind of blunt honesty in that too. They are what they are and they own that. The “good” of this world? They don’t even know what really constitutes “good” half the time. Let them have their precious paradise. I wouldn’t want to rub shoulders with that hypocritical lot anyway.

Maybe I was feeling frustrated. Maybe I was just bored. I honestly don’t know. As I was cleaning up Cas’s plate and tray, I shot the reverend a glance. Didn’t mean to go black eyes on him. I don’t think anyway. Just sort of happened, like a sneeze. His chair hit the floor so fast I almost didn’t even see him standing up. He had a cross out and was glaring at me like he wanted to shout I KNEW IT at the top of his lungs. Or maybe just GOTCHA! like he’d caught me with my hand in the cookie jar. I just gave him a smile.

“If you’re waiting for me to start spitting up pea soup and telling you your mother sucks cocks in hell, you’ve got a long time to wait. I hate pea soup and I never got a chance to get to know your mother.” I gave him a wink and watched him scramble for words. Ah to be young. There was a time when a cross wielding priest might have made me nervous, but nowadays it’s a little like a bee flying too close to your face. Can be startling if you aren’t ready for it, but overall not a threat. I doubted he even knew a proper exorcism. 

Cas was the one who broke it up, unexpectedly enough. Guess the lights were on after all. Lightbulb over our heads started to overload, flickering and spitting. The Rev was glaring at me like I was the one doing it but I just gave him a smile and shook my head. I knew better than to look at Cas. I like my eyes, thank you very much.

I don’t know what he saw. Maybe some wings. Maybe a little grace. The room filled up with a smell like burnt ozone, and I thought maybe my hair was singeing a little bit. And then he ran.

Ah the bravery of God’s followers. I doubt he’ll be back any time soon.

Cas protected me. Go fig.

 

**April 18th**

**4:00 pm**

Just found out Dick Clark died today. Bummer. Kinda miss the 50’s. We were doing a lot of good work back then and it was the first time I was really off the leash, so to speak. What? Demons are allowed to be nostalgic too.

You never forget your first body. I mean, she wasn’t my first possession by a long shot, but she was the first life I took over. Poor little housewife. Her husband was fucking the neighbor and she knew it, but she wasn’t doing anything about it. Just smile and make his dinner and carry on, like a good little girl. Her name was Margaret, but everyone called Peg. When her husband wanted to suck up, it was Peggy. I like to think part of her was relieved when I took over. She never fought me over it but then, she never really fought anyone over anything. Maybe she just figured that was her lot in life. Killed her cheating husband for her, before I gave the body back. Made it look like an accident. I’m not completely heartless.

**7:20 pm**

Been sitting on the bed watching American Bandstand on my phone all afternoon but it needs to charge for a little bit. Was sitting in the chair for a bit but I don’t know. I got this idea in my head that Cas was listening. He never reacted or anything but I just had this feeling. So I scooted him over and sat against the headboard and held my phone in what I thought was his line of sight. Hard to tell sometimes. He seemed less tense than usual. I don’t know maybe he liked it.

Am I getting soft? I feel like I’m doing an awful lot lately “because he likes it”

  
**April 19th**

I'm getting so tired.

 

**April 21st**

**Midnight**

No weekly call from the Winchesters today. Wonder if they got the message or if they just don't fucking care anymore.

Fuck them both.

 

**April 23rd**

**2:00 pm**

I can’t hold out any longer. I’m going to have to sleep. Tonight. I weighed my options and I think nighttime is the best option. There’s fewer staff, most of the craziers are in a pill coma, and there isn’t as much stimulation for my pocket angel. 

I’ve been dragging ass for days. Didn’t even realize I wasn’t keeping track of the time anymore. Not good. Really not fucking good.

I have to be careful about this. If I don’t make some preparations, this body could probably sleep for a good three days without even a flicker of life. I’m setting a couple of alarms. And in case those don’t wake me, I’m throwing up a shit ton of power to hold the door. I carved a bunch of spells into it and, just for extra insurance, I broke the damn lock so it won’t open from the outside. It won’t stop Cas from blipping out if he decides to, but he hasn’t done that for a couple of days, so, I can hope I guess.

This is such a shitty plan.

I tried to explain it to him, what was happening and why, but I don’t think he got any of it. There wasn’t that little spark of attention I’ve been getting from him every so often. There was just nothing.

He’s getting scruffy again. I’m tempted to give him a shave before I go to sleep tonight but this body is so tired I’d be afraid I’d nick him. I hate to think what he might do then.

**10:15 pm**

Night shift is all clocking in right now. I’ve double checked the door. I’ve triple checked my alarms. I tried, again, to tell Cas not to worry. I put my hand on his face and I thought I felt pressure, like he was leaning into it, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. I can’t know if he heard me.

This is stupid. It’s not too late to pick a nurse and possess them. But it’s so risky. Darice is here tonight. I’m willing to bet he’s the one behind my priest visits. What will he do if I push the line again? I can’t have a hunter in here. 

This is so stupid.

I'd call the boys but honestly I'm not sure if I'd ever wake up.

  


**April 24th**

**11:00 am**

Well I did say it was stupid.

I didn’t need any of the back up alarms, I’ll say that for my plan, at least. I woke up on the first go and, all things considered, I feel a lot fucking better. God, human beings are the worst. How is sleep a positive evolutionary thing? Sure, let me shut down for eight hours while a predator sneaks up on me, really good plan. No wonder they evolved into us.

Cas

I don’t know

I don’t know what set him off exactly, it’s not like I can ask anyone, but I’m gonna assume he wasn’t happy about my little nap. Usually when he blips out of here, it’s not a big deal. He goes down to the dayroom, stares at the floor like a freak, and it’s fine. But last night he wasn’t fine. And now one of the nurses is blind. My guess is she caught a glimpse of what lurks behind those baby blues and it burned her eyes right out of her skull. Which means whatever happened, Cas was upset. Maybe it was because of me. Maybe it was something that happened downstairs. I’ve been trying to peek in minds but I’m not getting much. Most of the people on right now weren’t here when it happened so I won’t really know until the night crew comes on I guess.

He’s got vegitable on me again. No reaction to anything. No movement. He’s just laying in bed staring at the ceiling. For a little while I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing and I honestly don’t know if he even needs to or if the angel mojo can keep that meatsack going but the lungs are still working as far as I can tell. Heart too. But other than that? I don’t think so.

**11:30 pm**

Details are still a little sketchy but apparently Cas showed up in the day room all kinds of agitated. Fidgety. More animated than they were used to seeing him, but that wasn’t what had them worried. What had them worried was that he was down there alone and I was nowhere to be found. They tried his room and of course couldn’t get in. My own plan biting me in the ass, should have realized. If they’d just been able to get in, they might have found me, woke me up, and I could have taken him back in. But no, I thought I was so damn clever.

But it’s like he was trying to go through the routine I might have put him through. He sat at the activity table. He moved to the dinner table. But since, obviously, middle of the night, it’s not like they were serving anything. As far as I can gather, that’s about when the nurse in question came up to him. Put a hand on him when he wasn’t expecting it, I’m guessing. It’s not like he lashes out all willy nilly over nothing. But he doesn’t like to be touched unexpectedly.

That’s my theory anyway. 

There was a lot of fear in the building before. There’s even more now. This place is clenched up so tight it’s gonna turn us all into diamonds.

And Cas isn’t looking at me.

  


**April 25th**

**10:25 am**

Still no response from Cas. No eye movement. No trips to the dayroom.

I think I fucked up here.

**9:00 pm**

No change. Wouldn’t eat his dinner. Don’t really blame him it looked disgusting but he didn’t even try.

**11:00 pm**

No change. He’s gonna bounce back. He did last time he had a little episode so he will this time, too. I hope.

 

**April 26th**

**8:00 am**

No change.

**11:00 am**

No change.

**1:00 pm**

Had to take a break from the nothing and stretch my legs. Take a piss. I leaned over him before I went, put both hands on either side of his face and said his name. When that didn’t get a reaction, I called him Clarence. Still no reaction. I sighed, told him what I had to do and that I’d only be gone about 5 minutes. Can you try not to go into a temper tantrum in that time. No reaction.

I fucked up hard.

~~If~~ When he bounces back, the boys are  never going to hear about this little whoops. Cas and I are gonna have to have a little chat about what we do and do not tell the Winchesters. I know he’s got this idea of a bond with them but clearly they don’t have the same feeling and it definitely doesn’t extend to me. In my experience? The less you tell them the better.

But I noticed something curious as I was walking down the hall to the bathroom. When I first got here, it was all screams and fear, and that’s still here to a certain degree. But, as I was going down the hall, they were all coming to their doors. Behind me at first, saw me go by. But then it was like it spread through their little hive mind until they were all out looking at me. And it’s not fear exactly anymore. Oh it’s still there, I can taste it. It’s woven so deep into every corner of this place it’ll never leave. They might have to shut this place down when we finally bounce. In a decade or so it’ll be one of those old abandoned places the local kids tell ghost stories about, and some of them are going to be true.

But it’s definitely not me they’re afraid of.

“Gracias,” I heard quietly from one doorway and I turned to see this middle aged Hispanic woman looking at me, holding a rosary. Little mumbles were running up and down the hall. They know now. All of them. They know I’m apparently the only thing keeping Cas from nuking this place. I just wish I was as confident in my ability to do that as they seem to be.

No change in Cas when I got back to the room. I’m not sure if he even noticed I was gone. If he did, it apparently didn’t bother him. Maybe he heard me after all. Or maybe he’s so far gone that he doesn’t hear or see anything anymore.

**April 27th**

No change.

**April 28th**

No change.

**April 29th**

No change.

**April 30th**

**5:30 pm**

It’s a good thing this place is made of tile and concrete or I might have just set the whole damn place on fire. Left the room for a bathroom break and almost tripped on a bunch of shit outside the door. Altar candles. Where did they even get matches to light them? This has to be staff, or it’s a combined effort between staff and patients. I accidentally kicked one when I came out and it hit the wall. Tipped over, guttered out, spilled wax everywhere. Just got done cleaning it up. It’s not like I could leave it there and let them all think it’s some kind of “bad omen.”

I’m thinking it through and I’m trying to decide what they hope to accomplish with those things. They’re scared of Cas, clearly. Maybe me too to. Probably me too. I thought candles were supposed to be lit for things you liked though. Or for prayers. Not sure, I never followed the Western religions much, even when they started to be the dominant ones. Even when I got all mixed up in them. It was never about God and Prayer for me. It was about family. Lucifer wasn’t my god because he ruled Hell. He was my god because he created me and loved me and gave me power. What did the Christian god ever give his followers except a bunch of stonings and crucifixions? 

I’m getting distracted here. Not exactly surprising. Cas is still a turnip, so it’s not like I’ve got much else to think about right now. But I guess maybe it’s apt. Where is Cas’s oh so loving Daddy? Where was he during the whole end of the world? Where is he now when his children need him? Lucifer at least had an excuse, he was caged. So where is God in all this? Maybe that’s why they’re lighting candles out there for us. We’re the closest to God they’ve ever had in their pathetic little lives. I almost feel bad for them. Almost.





	3. May

**May 1st**

**8:00 am**

Officially starting to worry. What if he doesn’t bounce back this time? I mean I wouldn’t exactly call what he was doing before “getting better” but it was something at least. A sign of life. He didn’t even get cut up this time, and he went full angel on some woman and now he’s just given up or something and all because what? I took a nap? Who knew the guy was so co-dependent?

**1:30 pm**

Decided to test him a little. He was due for another shave, so I got out the razor and cream and everything was going fine, but I had to know. So I cut him. Just a little. He didn’t even flinch. What he did do was heal it almost instantly. Little flare of grace, made me squint, and then it was nothing but a little drop of red on his cheek. So he’s in there. On autopilot maybe but he’s in there. And unlike when Old Man Smithers attacked him, he didn’t feel the need to let this one bleed. Guess I’m special, get the special angel forgiveness when I cut him up. Lucky me. It’s something at least.

 

**May 2nd**

**2:00 pm**

It’s Sammy’s birthday. Wonder if they even noticed. Well I can fix that. Gonna send him a text with a dancing hamster singing to him. Say something like “Happy Anniversary of the day your life went to shit, your brother died and went to Hell, And also your birth.”

**9:23 pm**

No response to my birthday greeting. Guess they don’t find it as hilarious as I do. Shows what they know. If you can’t laugh at your own fucked up existence you might as well be dead.

 

**May 4th**

He’s awake.

 

I don’t know what time it is

It was storming again and I was honestly a little hopeful that it was going to make him go all batshit on me again but nope. Just laid there like he has for the past week. Wasn’t even paying attention to him. One minute he was laying flat, the next he was up. Happened too fast for me to even get my hopes up about it.

He looked me in the eye. Turned and looked at me and I thought, this is it. This is how I die. There wasn’t any humanity in that look.

He was off the bed and I thought he was moving so quick I almost didn’t catch it, but, at the same time, I feel like maybe everything was in slow mo. He didn’t look like he was moving fast, once my head caught up with the instinct to run and beat it into submission, but I still pushed back. Chair screeched so loud it hurt my ears. Left big scratches on the floor. I had the urge to close my eyes, but no. If I was going to die, I wanted to see it coming. Panic’s a funny thing. He was looking up at me with those big soft eyes, and how in the Hell was he looking up at me when he’s got at least a solid foot on me in height and I was still half in the goddamn chair? But he was crouching down, looking at me, reaching for me, mouth was moving but I didn’t quite catch it.

He had his hands on mine. He had his angel blade, but it was the hilt he was pressing on me. It was cold in my palm. Burned a little.

People don’t really touch me all that often. Not voluntarily. I think Cas was probably the last, actually. Maybe it’s what I am. Maybe it’s just demons. I don’t know. It’s hard to put into words, it’s been so long since I was human I don’t really remember what it felt like, skin to skin. But I don’t think it was like it is now. This isn’t my skin. But it is. There’s this thin layer of not me between myself and every touch. Maybe that’s why we, as a species, like everything so rough. It feels more deep. Touches us. I guess there’s an argument to be made that after so long in Hell the only kind of touches we like are the rough ones. But I don’t think that’s true. When Az Yellow Eyes touched me, I could feel it. When Lucifer touched me, I felt it through my whole soul.

I could feel this touch.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He sounded worried. “I can’t...it’s dangerous to have, I shouldn’t have it. Will you…?”

It was getting warm in my palm, faster than metal should. But then it’s not metal, is it? It’s a part of him. I mean, one minute it wasn’t there and the next it was. A physical manifestation of angelic grace, burning my skin but then sort of settling like it got tired of it. Or like he trusts me.

Why in the name of Hell would he trust me

  


**May 5th**

**8:30 am**

Finally got a chance to put a call into the boys. Knew they’d be more engaged the moment they knew he was awake. Didn’t bother to ask where they were or how long it’ll take them to get here. Hope it’s fast though. Don’t think I can keep this under wraps indefinitely. 

I spent most of last night chasing him around. He doesn’t seem like he wants to leave the grounds but he’s just all over the place. It’s like he dropped a shit ton of speed and ex when I wasn’t looking. He’s been telling really inane old man jokes. Knock knock jokes. Bad puns. I guess he overheard them down in the day room at some point and he’s just so damn proud of them right now, what the hell is that about?

**3:20 pm**

The other nurses aren’t doing a good job of hiding their stares and it’s annoying the hell out of me. I guess Cas is a lot less scary when he’s awake though. Hard to be afraid of a guy that’s stammering and smiling the way he’s doing. Charming bastard. The patients aren’t really warming up to him but I don’t think that’ll last. He can’t keep away from them. Gets this guilty look on his face when he sees some of them and the next thing I know he’s on them. Healing. Never anything big, he’s not putting their heads back in order or anything, but I’ve seen a lot of bruises disappearing and a few scrapes. Broken bone or two from bad falls. 

I’ve got him working on a puzzle right now. Seems happy enough. Getting a few cautions looks from the other patients but no one’s bothering him right now and that’s how I like it. If we survive the next few hours, maybe we can make it through the night. And if we can make it through the night maybe his pets will be here and they’ll know what to do. 

Catatonic angel was bad enough. Crazy angel? Anything could happen. Least he seems like the harmless kind of crazy and not the I’m gonna murder your family and rape your eye socket kind of crazy. Of the two, pretty happy with the kind I’m getting here.

**9:30 pm**

Most of the other patients have been herded off to bed but it’s not like Cas sleeps. I got him into his room at least. He wanted to go outside but that didn’t seem like the smartest idea in the whole world right about now. Outside with other patients he might blend in, but outside by himself, I don’t know. I know it’s ludicrous to think that anyone or anything is going to randomly flick its attention on this place right now, but I just feel like I’ve got eyes on my back. If we didn’t get noticed when he was lighting this place up, we’re not likely to get noticed now, I guess, but something about having him awake just makes me more nervous. He should be easier to control, not harder, and in some ways sure. He is. He’s willing enough to follow when I call his name, but it just feels 

I don’t know how it feels. I’m running on fumes here. 

At least he’s in his room. Standing at the window for now. Says it’s beautiful. Asked me to sing to him, guess he really was paying attention while he was out. Been running through the Patsy Cline catalogue. 

I really wasn’t prepared for all this.

  


**May 6th**

**3:30 am**

He owes me. His words. 

Calmed down the longer he stood there looking out the window. I ran out of songs around midnight and it was just quiet, but he seemed okay with that. Started monologuing at some point about the colors in the sky and I wasn’t really listening. I almost missed it. Guess he gets that I’m the one who’s been taking care of him this whole time. That when push came to shove, his pets blew out of town and left him in my hands, and I didn’t do too bad a job if I do say so myself. 

Kind of nice to be validated.

**Noon**

And we’re back in the room. 

He blew out all the lights in the dining room. Not sure what he was doing, I lost track of him for I swear thirty freaking seconds and he was over with a group of old men with more hair coming out of their noses than on their heads. Don’t know what happened, but I don’t think he was acting out. He was smiling, like he was proud of himself. Like a kid who just smeared his finger paints all over the tv and doesn’t understand why no one is applauding his art. 

There was glass everywhere. Crazies going crazier. Nurses running. He looked so confused I almost felt bad for the guy. Wanted to fuss about the room, healing cuts. Got him out of there as fast I could manage, though. Told him off the whole way down the hall, but I don’t know if he heard me or not. Told him he can’t just go waving his dick around like that, these people aren’t gonna be able to deal with that. He just blinked at me and told me he hadn’t exposed himself. Angels. I don’t know if he’d have gotten it even if he wasn’t crazy. 

“Just keep your angel mojo in your pocket, understand?” 

He just looked at me and told me things could fall out of his pocket. He’s having himself a little time out in his room right now. Not sure if he understands but I told him to sit still and be good and he seems to be trying. So there’s that, I guess.

**5:00 pm**

Let him wander outside for awhile. Told him it was a reward for being a well behaved little angel and sitting quietly in his room after lunch. I think I should have let him out sooner, he’s ironically easier to deal with outside. He just wanders around, chasing butterflies. 

He brought me a little black spider at one point. Sat cross legged in front of me and let it walk across his fingers. Held his hand perfectly still and let it spin lines between his fingers and palm. I think if I’d let him sit there long enough he’d have let it build a whole web in his hand. Told me how important they are. 

“Humans find them so frightening but they really are quite essential. Predators always are. They quell the pests and allow the vegetation to thrive, but their outward appearance has given them negative connotations throughout human history.” 

He looked up at me so open and honest. Rolled my eyes. 

“You wanna flirt with me, Clarence, maybe try not comparing me to a blood sucker.” 

“They don’t suck blood, strictly speaking. The feed on organic material, which does include blood.” 

Rolled my eyes again but it made me laugh. He’s not the smoothest angel in the heavens, but damn if he isn’t cute in his cluelessness sometimes. Can’t even chalk that one up to having a case of the crazies. He was always like that. Part of his charm, I guess.

**10:15 pm**

We’re in for the night and he’s back at the window. Skies have been clear the whole time he’s been awake, even with that little storm burst we had that first night. I wonder if he’s keeping them open. I still don’t know what he’s capable of really. 

He keeps telling me thank you, though. Sort of. Little ways. Roundabout ways. Drops it into the middle of monologues about the cycle of rainfall and evaporation or a history lesson about the use of tools in apes. Thanks me. Tells me he’s going to make sure I’m okay. Overly flowery and poetic in my opinion. Told him to shut up once or twice, and he fell quiet both times. Honestly felt a little bad. It’s like kicking a puppy. 

He keeps looking at me. I’m not sure I like it. It’s too personal somehow.

  


**May 7th**

**3:00 pm**

I imagine this is sort of what it would be like to have a puppy. After breakfast, he wanted to go outside. Asked permission and everything. I told him so long as he stayed in the grounds, it was fine and he smiled like I’d just told him he could go to Disneyland. The minute we were out there, he had his nose in the bushes and I swear I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d started eating them or something at this point. Maybe hike a leg like a good little housebroken pup. But he didn’t. 

There aren’t a lot of flowers blooming just yet, but there are a few, and there were bees. I never liked bees. I was a little afraid one was going to sting him, the way he had his face all up in their business. He followed this one, bush to bush, all wide eyed, like it was the greatest thing he’d ever seen. Then he held his hand out by one of the flowers and it landed on him. I was waiting for the sting. I don’t know if he was listening to my thoughts or just assuming but he kind of smiled, all fond of the damn little thing, and shook his head. 

“He’s not going to sting me. To sting me would be the end of his life, and it would serve no purpose. He knows he has greater works to do.” 

And I guess he did because he flew off and up and was gone. 

He’s got grass stains on his knees now, and his hands are all dirty. But he seems happy at least. Gonna try to get him to wash up a little. Get him into clean clothes. Don’t want the Winchesters thinking I’m not doing my job here.

**10:00 pm**

Guess who finally arrived. And guess who’s already pissing me off. Of course they walk in with a job for him to do even though he just woke up and is clearly not playing with a full deck right now. And after all I’ve done for them, all the bullshit I’ve put up with for the past two months, they’re still closing ranks on me and treating me like I don’t matter. Worse, like I’m the enemy. At what point are they gonna stop fucking navel gazing long enough to realize the world isn’t about their petty little squabbles? This involves me too, but try telling them that.

**11:43 pm**

Days almost over and good riddance. My ass is going numb in the back seat of this car and we’ve still got a whole day’s worth of driving left to do. With a tourist no less. Little Asian kid, scared out of his mind. Can’t say I blame him much. I can see him from here, trying to peek and see what I’m writing, like it’s gonna give him some answer to what’s going on and just how fucked up his life is gonna be from now on. Cause it will be. The Winchesters are like that. They touch you and it’s only a matter of time before things go to shit and you end up dead. 

Gonna catch up with me, too, one day, I don’t doubt. 

I hope wherever they banished Cas to, he’s alright. He’s not exactly in the best shape to cope with things right now.

  


**May 8th**

**5:20 pm**

The demons I spotted back at the last gas station are still tailing us. Not gonna tell the boys just yet. They’ll make a big light show about it and we don’t know if these are bottom feeders or sharks. Best to wait and see. Long game was never the Winchester forte.

**9:43 pm**

Finally got my pocket angel back. Can’t say I’m not relieved, all things considered. Now if little Dean would just stop acting like a grade A jackass about everything I wouldn’t have to worry Cas is gonna go flying right back to Indiana to play jacks with the old folks. 

Cas is an odd kind of comfort right now. Sure he’s making the back seat cramped as all hell, but him being here means at least I’m not about to get a knife to the face. He won’t let it happen. I kind of like this protective hen side of him, just wish he would shut up about it. I don’t want those boys to start looking at me like I’m some kind of tool they can use. And I could do without the way he’s watching me. He looks at me like he sees right through me and no one’s ever looked at me like that before. People don’t see right through me, not even Lucifer looked at me like that. He’s looking at me like, I don’t know, I’m cute or something. He’s giving me the same look he’d given a kitten and that’s not exactly the aesthetic I’m going for here. 

Makes me uncomfortable, the way he looks at me. 

I like the fact that I’ve got an angel in my back pocket. I don’t like the fact that he’s treating me like the love interest in some Shakespearean comedy. Like any minute now he’s going to find a love letter in my pocket that explains away all our little misunderstandings and everyone gets to live happily ever after. I am not Beatrice. I’ll be damn lucky if I get to be Ophelia. At least she picked her own exit.

**Midnight**

This is how I die. I don’t get to pick my exit after all. I’m not Ophelia. I’m Desdemona. 

What a fucking joke.

  


**May 9th**

**5:00 am**

And just like that, I’m on my own again. 

Had to be done.

****

**Noon**

Couple of texts from the Winchesters before I ditched the phone. Like I’m gonna tell them where I’m at. I’ve seen how they repay the people they actually care about, how in the world are they going to repay me for pulling their asses out of the fire? Saving Cas’s life? They don’t trust me any more than I trust them, but at least I’ve got justification and logic on my side. 

Never killed an angel before. Don’t know any demons that have except maybe Crowley. Can’t imagine that’s endearing me to Heaven at all. But I couldn’t let him die. Told the boys it had to be done. Told them I was just doing what they weren’t man enough to do. It’s a little true. 

In the long run, it’s better for me if Cas is alive. Never know when it might come in handy, you know? But that wasn’t why I stepped in. Either of those angels could have ended me with a touch if they’d been bothering to think about me at all. Could have still done it while I had my knife in her back. I don’t want to be dramatic and say I was ready to die but in retrospect it was kind of an obvious outcome to my little heroic moment. 

There’ve only been a couple times in my life when I’ve felt really wanted, and I don’t want to get all poetic and maudlin here but it’s true. And those relationships didn’t exactly turn out to be all hugs and kisses in the end. Maybe Cas is broken. Maybe he always will be. But he looks at me and he knows what I am and I still have value to him. And not just as something he can use. I can’t remember the last time someone cared if I got hurt or not, myself included. 

I really am getting soft in my old age. 

Had to get out of there pretty quick after that. It isn’t just that there were angels still there who might or might not take umbrage with the fact that I just offed their leader. It wasn’t even Dean, with his prejudiced bullshit. He talks a big game for a guy that was almost exactly like me. No, it was Sam. I wasn’t even trying to listen in, but I heard it, clear as day. He was thinking about what I’d said before. About if both of us called, who would Cas come to. He thought I was stacking my deck. He thought that’s why I risked my life to kill an angel. 

I don’t have a lot left in this world, but I’ve got a little fucking pride left. A tiny scrap of dignity. I’m not a user like they are. Let them keep Cas on his leash and try to force him to fight even though I’ve never seen anyone, man, demon, or angel, squirm the way he does at the slightest hint of conflict now. They’re gonna break what’s left of him. Gonna get him killed. There’s a lot of people in this world that don’t deserve the air they breath and I don’t know, maybe the lives they save gets them a free pass. But the pair of them, they’re the worst examples of human nature, in every sense. And when the day comes that they finally do shuffle off, they’ll probably get their big reward in the sky, and I can’t think of anything more typical. I just hope they get it before he does. Maybe without them he might know some kind of peace. Just watch his bugs and his birds for the rest of eternity and be happy.

**9:32 pm**

Just felt him. A little brush, like a feather on my skin. Checking up on me. Maybe I’ll leave off the angel proofing when I finally stop for the night. Just in case.

  


**May 11th**

**Afternoon**

Just had a visit from my little wayward angel. Popped right into the hotel room I was camped out in. I hadn’t felt him peeking in but I guess he’s keeping a closer eye on me than I realized. It’s sweet, in a stalkery sort of way. 

He brought me a present. Stalk from a thistle. Huge puff of soft purple down surrounded and supported by a stalk that’s more razor than vegetable. Spines all over it. Said it reminded him of me. 

He had a cut on his thumb from holding it, big spine of the thing sliced him right open. Didn’t even heal it till he’d handed the flower over to me. Carefully, I might add. Didn’t want it to slice me the way it did him. Guess he cares more about not hurting me than about getting hurt himself. Always the way with him, never put himself first. I’m not sure how I feel about being one of the people that comes before him now in his estimation of priorities. 

Thing smelled a little funny and it took me a minute to realize why. It’s not from around here. It’s still leaking a little bit from the stalk, he must have just plucked it from a bush in the Highlands or something and brought it all the way here to show me. 

I’m worried about him, and I can’t put my finger on why exactly. I ask myself what there is to worry about and the only answer I can come up with is everything. It’s the Winchester of it all. I wish they’d just leave him alone. Leave us all alone. The world doesn’t need them as much as they think it does.

  


**May 15th**

**Noonish**

I’m starting to get a little collection of angel gifts here. Sometimes I don’t even see him leave them. Yesterday I woke up to a clutch of daisies on my pillow, still had a ladybug crawling on it. Today he’s left me a bag of honey on the front seat of the car I stole last night. How did he even know which one was mine?

**6ish**

He stopped by while I was eating dinner at some crappy dive diner. Had another little present for me. Black seashell, flecked with white. Got it off the bottom of the ocean. What were you doing down there, featherbrain? Just a shrug. Asked if I liked it and I told him I did. What else are you supposed to say when an angel gives you a shell he got off the bottom of the sea just for you?

  


**May 16th**

What am I going to do with him? 

A long time ago, we met on opposite sides of a ring of fire. He was the second angel I’d ever seen. I was probably his millionth demon. But there was something there and I don’t think it was a heat of the moment thing cause it sure as shit hasn’t gone away. Feel a little zing every time I see him. It’s been, we’ll call it different since he went lost his marbles. He’s not the same Castiel. Or I thought anyway. Maybe he is, but just more somehow. I’m not the poet, he is. He’d probably have four stanzas of pretty verse to explain the differences now, or a long, brain numbing lecture on the nature of humanity, as if that applies to either of us. 

But there was something there. 

He brought me another present today. A cameo necklace. And it looks like me. I don’t mean if you squint and turn your head to the side it might look like me, I mean it’s me. I don’t know how he found he. For a second, when he first showed me, I thought maybe he’d had it made, but no, it’s old. And I see why it appealed to him. It’s not just this face I’m wearing, it’s me. It’s so old, and so worn, the ivory’s gone thin in places, and the black background is bleeding through. It swirls under the white skin like water or smoke. Is this what I look like to him? When he looks at me, does he see my soul, constantly moving, under the skin? All I am anymore is just so much black ash, held together by spite and little else. But if this is how he sees me, I get how he could look at my burnt, used up soul, and call me beautiful. 

I’ve done a lot of shitty things. And I’ve been party to a lot of awful. And the only people who’ve ever given me a pat instead of a slap only ever did so for their own means. I get that. It’s the way of the world. And after the last couple thousand years, it’s not even hard to deal with anymore. It’s par for the course. It’s what I deserve, what we all deserve in one way or another. No one really does anything for anyone else. We, as a species, humans and former humans, we are selfish, awful, hideous souls and the only difference between me and them is that I accepted that a long time ago. I look in the mirror and I see my face and I know that it’s a reflection of who I am and it’s never bothered me. Still doesn’t. 

But even now, he looks at me and tells me what a beauty I am. And maybe it’s because he’s not human. He doesn’t understand us the way I do. Maybe it’s that he’s batshit crazy and always was. I don’t know. 

What in the world could he possibly see in me? He’s not after sex. He’s not after help. He’s not after anything. So why does he look at me like that? What does he want? 

  


**May 18th**

A week and a half. That’s all I had. A week and a half before the Winchesters sucked me back in. And this time? Well let’s just say I don’t like my odds. 

Cas was in my room this morning when I woke up. It was just a nap really. Now that I’m able to sleep when I want to, I can get more of it, in shorter bursts. Couple of hours here and there, and then move on. But he was there this time, pacing around. I think the sound of it was what woke me up. He had that distressed, I’m gonna blow this place look on his face again, but there wasn’t anything happening that I could see. If I was in danger, he probably would have just blipped me away. So it had to be something else. Had to be Winchester related. 

I sat up, nice and slow. Asked him what they wanted him to do. Calm. Nowhere near as angry as I wanted to be about it. They ask too much of him, but telling him that wasn’t gonna calm him down any, even if it would have made me feel better. 

“Fight.” That was all he said. 

“You don’t have to, you know,” I told him. Let them clean up their own messes for once. 

“But this is my fault. I opened the door for them. Carried them.” 

“So they’re going after the chompers, I guess.” Couldn’t really claim that wasn’t on Cas, but I maintain all things come back to Winchester. If they hadn’t been fucking around, none of this would have happened in the first place, of that I am dead certain. Whatever Cas did, I’m betting, if nothing else, they made it worse. I stood up and went over to him. I remember how he didn’t like to be touched without warning. Went nice and slow. Fingers on the back of his hand. “Heroes are dead men walking. Those two can handle this themselves. They don’t need you and they know it.” 

He looked so confused. The urge to comfort him was pretty strong. Sometimes I wish I could be one of those squishy human women, could put my hand on his cheek and draw him in and tell him it’ll be okay. But I’m not. And it’s been so long since I was any kind of human I don’t even remember if I ever was that sort of woman. 

“They say they do,” he said, so conflicted. “They say all this happened because I wouldn’t listen to them. We’re supposed to do this together, but I made such a terrible mistake. It was the right thing to do. I thought it was the right thing to do.” 

I guess that’s what does us all in, in the end. We all get fucked cause we’re doing what we think is right. For us. For the situation. For the world. For whatever. I’m on the run because I backed the wrong pony, but it was the right thing to do. Wasn’t it? Chompers are out cause Cas thought he was doing the right thing. Lost his mind for the same reason. Now he’s come to me. Why? Is that the right thing for him now? When did that happen? 

So now I’m here. Cause I guess it’s the right thing to do. Don’t know when that happened either. Don’t give a damn about the chompers, not really. But 

I don’t wanna get into it. This is all turning a little too dear diary on me. Tomorrow I’m probably gonna die and I don’t want the last written record of my life to be full of my sad little thoughts and feelings. Cas didn’t even wanna bring me back, but I’m nothing if not convincing. Lied to the boys about it, cause no way do I want them knowing I’m fucking invested. I’m not. Not in them at least. I told them once, you find something to follow and it puts your life in order. I thought I knew what path I was on, but I guess I’m just as stupid as everyone else in the long run. 

If I die tomorrow, I guess you could say it’s because I was “doing what’s right.” But who can even say what that means? Not me. Don’t feel good about it, and if I’ve learned anything about the good guys of this world, if it feels like a bad idea, it’s probably what you’ve gotta do. 

I don’t want to die tomorrow. I’ve lived so long, you’d think I’d be ready for it. But I’m not. Never will be. 

But at least there’ll be one person on the field looking out for him. And maybe that means there’s one person out there looking out for me, too. For the first time in my way too long life. 

Adios muchachos. It’s been real.





End file.
